


i can't get lower

by sleebyama



Series: the game [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Canon-Typical Violence, Charles Vane Lives (Black Sails), Dom/sub Undertones, Fuck you canon, Lack of Dynamic Negotiations, M/M, Pseudo BDSM, Rough Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleebyama/pseuds/sleebyama
Summary: Charles turns his head to the lamp and reaches for it. He shifts it so that the room dims. Charles turns around and Kinsey leans further back. Charles is scary when he wants to be, Kinsey seems to have fucking forgotten that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title + series title is from The Game by Two Feet.  
> This was inspired after i reread First and Only to look for typos.

Kinsey has definitely made mistakes in his life, a lot of them recent, a lot of them dangerous. He followed Low, fucked him, liked him and yes he had, still has; a tendency to like the mean bastards. The ones who pulled his hair and called him names, the ones who held him down and fucked him because they could. The ones who could overwhelm him in an instant and take advantage of him in that state, but he was entirely aware of it. 

This prize… this prize to take was the worst. The boy he shot, because there was no way that the boy huddling in the captains cabin was older than seventeen, had bled out over his trousers and jacket and his captain had barely even flinched behind him. He's still the bosun of the Ranger, God knows how he kept the jo b when Maurice stared at him disappointed sometimes in the middle of the day or when their captain gazed over at him with a blatant and plain look of regret. Now the blood on his hands isn't going to be washed away with a bottle of rum and a cheap fucking from the whores at Jacks brothel. 

No, its going to fucking stick with him and his captain bloody knows it too. That's probably why Charles is judging him with a curious look on his face. 

Kinsey hasn't spoken to the captain properly one on one since Charles had growled at him about fucking Ned and he was chastised for liking the abuse he received. Oh and there was the fact that he'd slept with a different captain, but it had been months, almost a year since that fucking disaster and the political and societal mess that followed it and they were too busy trying to stay alive to care. The new governor, Eleanor Guthrie, Charles' almost death at the noose and the disappearance of Captain Flint, John Silver and other famous names like Billy Bones and Teach’s death. 

It’s not until they get back to Nassau after their latest haul, exhausted, bloodied and bruised, that Charles approaches him. He’s sitting in the shallow surf, his shirt left in the sand as scrubs his hands together in the water. His hands are clean, but whenever he moves them he swears he can still see red on them. Charles wades up in the water behind him, until the water laps at his knees. 

“Kinsey.” Charles’ voice is low. Kinsey lifts his head to glance over his shoulder and away from his hands. “What are you doing?” 

“Washing m’hands captain.” Kinsey sighs and drops his hands onto his thighs. His trousers are red-stained, clashing with the light brown shade of the fabric. 

Charles furrows his brow and frowns at him, his eyes darting to his hands. When he sees that they’re clean he starts to say something before snapping his mouth shut. Kinsey finally stands and lets the water lap at his own calves, before he wades out of the water and onto the beach.

“Don’t go to Jack’s tonight.” Charles says to him while they stand on the beach. “I want you at the fort.” It has a hint of a command in the undertone, but it’s not quite an order yet. The pit of his stomach tightens and Kinsey frowns but he nods nonetheless. A small breeze blows across the beach, it pushes Kinsey’s hair out of his face.

“Is that all you needed captain?” Charles pauses and scans his face, but shakes his head. Kinsey lets out a short breath and nodes before walking away past Charles. When he glances down at the sand, he still sees red on his hands.

 

* * *

 

Kinsey pays for a whole bottle of rum to bring into the courtyard of the fort that night. He does not go to Jacks, no matter how tempting it is to find a pretty new boy under the sly employ of Jack’s brothel or maybe one of the more risky whores down near the warehouses who wouldn’t dare say a word. He drinks his rum straight from the bottle as he waits for Charles to send someone to summon him.

Soon enough, Maurice comes up to him with a wary smile and asks him to go see Charles. Kinsey pats the older man on the shoulder before he grips the neck of the rum bottle and brings it with him up to Charles’ room. The door to his captain’s room is open and unguarded. As Kinsey peers inside, he sees Charles sitting on his bed, his bare back to the door as his captain seems to be contemplating his hands.

“Captain?” Kinsey calls out after a moment. To catch his attention.

Charles starts and he turns around while reaching for a shirt. The green fabric is slipped over Charles’ head before he stands from his bed and in two quick strides, steps over to Kinsey. Charles glances between the bottle of rum and the door, before he gestures to Kinsey to close it. 

Once it’s closed, Charles shifts his weight from foot to foot before he opens his mouth and closes it, no words coming out. 

“You wanted to see me captain?” Kinsey rubs his palm over the smooth glass of the rum bottle.

“Put the rum on the table.” Charles finally speaks, after he rakes his eyes down the length of Kinsey’s now clean clothes and he searches both Kinsey’s face and hands. Kinsey complies, once his hands are free, Charles steps forward and grabs them to inspect them. Kinsey’s hands have been scrubbed raw. First with sea water, then with the chunk of soap he’d gotten from Giselle at the inn when he’d bought his bottle of rum. The soap was rough until he’d worn down the sharp edges with his continuous scrubbing. 

His hands are red and Charles holds and inspects his palms. 

“You’re having problems then?” Charles asks bluntly. “With your head? Shell shock or something.”  When Kinsey meets Charles’ eyes, he frowns. Charles drops his hands and manhandles him, turning his face side to side lik-[e he’s looking for head injuries.

“Were you hurt during today’s raid?” Charles asks.

“No.” Kinsey shifts his weight. He wants to know  _ why _ Charles is asking him these things.

“The blood?” Charles’ thumb sits firmly underneath his jaw.  

“Not mine. Was the boys’.” And god does he feel guilty for killing what had to be the merchant’s cabin boy. Too young, frail, shaking, but raising a weapon against them nonetheless. And Kinsey had shot him point blank because the kid had raised his pistol to level at their one of their vanguard’s.

“Jack says you spend more time in the brothel. Says some of the boys tell him that you panic sometimes, that you say things you shouldn’t be saying.” Charles drops his chin. “Jack also says that you let the boys he has hurt you. That you pay ‘em extra for it.” Charles turns away, hair swishing across his shoulders before he wanders back over to his bed, leaving Kinsey standing still in the centre of the room.

The evidence of that is plain, Kinsey doesn’t even have the chance to hide it, deny it or argue. Faded bruises on his lower back and thighs. Stripes across his shoulder blades and calves. Rings around his wrists and ankles. Pin pricks of pink along his chest. Kinsey flushes to the tips of his ears, embarrassed for the first time since he’s been giving in to his interests.

“Jack says sometimes it interferes with your wellbeing. That they hurt you too much.” Charles speaks up, a fraction louder than he was before.

“Jack is exaggerating.” Kinsey barks, before he tugs at the metal hoop in his ear and darts his eyes to the corner of the room, willing the flush in his cheeks to disappear. Jack really isn’t exaggerating. Sometimes Jack’s boys go too far, go to hard or too fast, twist his arm too much to the wrong side. Just before they’d left to chase their prize Kinsey had to wrench his arm out of a boy’s hold when he twisted it too far.

His shoulder aches at the memory. Under Charles’ glare he relents and sighs. He nods, and takes a small step back, away from Charles.

“Sometimes.” Kinsey admits. “Sometimes they don’t know.” 

“But not all the time.” Charles supplies, his tone knowing. 

“What’s it matter to you anyway?” Kinsey spits. Embarrassment tugs at his stomach and pinks his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His stomach twists and his face feels hots as he trains his eyes on the stone floor of the fort rather than Charles’ face. 

“A good Captain knows how to his tend to his crew, especially when his crew is being troubled.” Charles replies nonchalantly, like they haven’t had an ounce of bad blood between them since Ned Low appeared on Nassau. Kinsey’s stomach clenches.

He's angry, captain or not Charles has no fucking right after a month of barked orders and nothing more. 

"And what the fuck is it that you want to know Captain?" Kinsey spits. "That I've let Jacks boys hurt me because I enjoy it. Or would you rather know that Ned Low isn't the only Captain who's had the chance to have me? Is that it?" Charles face twists into a narrowed glare."You want to hear about how I left Flint flog me till I was screaming. Or his old bosun? Bones? The one you wanted to poach for our crew, yeah, you want to hear about how he strung me up and had his way with me?" By the end of his admission Charles looks shocked, eyes wide and the corners of his mouth down turned.  

"Yeah a good captain would've known all of that about his crew, wouldn't he?" Kinsey can hear the sigh that Charles lets out, while he twists his hands together and chews impatiently on his bottom lip, waiting for a reaction that isn't just Charles staring at him. Charles scans his face, searches it for answers before he closes the distance between them to grab Kinsey by his chin. 

“A good captain worries about the efficiency and wellbeing of his crew.” Charles hisses. “Either you find someone who can give you what want safely or you don’t do it at all.” Charles grunts bluntly. “Or you won't sail again.” 

“You can’t do that.” Kinsey huffs, his eyes dart over Charles face. 

“I can and I will.” Charles hisses. 

“How the fuck do you recommend I do what I want safely. You’ve scared off all my prospects." Kinsey laughs but it comes out strained.

Charles stills, eyeing Kinsey’s hand on the doorknob as he turns to leave the room. When no reply comes, Kinsey yanks the door open and leaves without looking back. 

 

* * *

 

Charles Vane can be terrifying, when he's not drinking and laughing with a whore in his lap. Charles is terrifying when he's leaning a shoulder against a doorway, when he's baring his teeth in a grin while training on the sand in the courtyard of the fort. Kinsey should really know better than to have antagonized his fucking captain. Let it be said on record that Kinsey Colt isn't smart.

Aside from Charles' typical Charles Vane behaviour, Kinsey captain has taken to following him around. whether it's to keep and eye on him or to scare off anyone willing to take up his offer of a good time.

Charles is an utter—absolute utter—fucking asshole and it isn't fair. An itch settles under Kinsey’s skin, one that can't be scratched anymore because Charles skies to be doing everything in his power to stop him from sleeping with anyone willing to not be gentle with him.

"He's doing it for your own good boy." Maurice chastises him as he groans into his mug of rum. 

"Me getting hurt is hardly significant to his interests." Kinsey huffs, displeased.

"That's your fault, getting involved with Captain Low like that." Maurice shakes his head. "What were you thinking? Letting Low fuck you." 

"I slept with him once!" Kinsey yells, indignant."And our captain cut his head off so it's not like I can fuck his corpse or his ghost!"

"That's just wrong." Edd comments from his left. They're first watch on the Ranger in the warm summer night. The moon is just starting to peek out of the clouds. Grey and Robbard will be coming back from shore to relieve them in a few hours and Kinsey is itching to prowl around the warehouses for someone to fuck—a man has needs he can't be blamed for wanting.

Kinsey thumps his head back against the mizzenmast and rolls it to the side to narrow his eyes at Edd. "I'm not going to fuck a corpse you dimwit." 

"Hey you brought it up not me." 

Kinsey sighs further into his mug and glares with hooded eyes over the rim at Edd. Edd backs away with his arms lifted in surrender while shaking his head. 

"Look I just want a fuck to take the edge off. You know it. I know it. Our fucking Captain knows it but he's scared off anyone who even considered me." Kinsey complains loudly. 

"You just start taking care of yourself." Maurice says while pointedly pressing on the bruise on his shoulder that they all know is under his shirt. It's an ugly thing, mottled purple and blue and a hint of chartreuse. Kinsey hisses and shoves him away. 

"Fucking stop that." Maurice smirks at him but settles back down nonetheless.

"Either I find someone to fuck me when I'm going ashore or I'm fucking one of you." Kinsey groans and thumps his head onto the mizzenmast when he finds his mug empty of rum. 

“If that’s what you want.” Charles rumbles as he emerges from the shadows. Their captain’s face is half-illuminated by the moon and Charles smirks as he lights a cheroot before blowing smoke from his lips. The smoke wisps across with a small breeze, Kinsey can smell a small hint of tobacco in the smoke.

“Captain.” Edd stammers as he fumbles with his hands and stands to attention.

“Maurice, Edd, head ashore, get Robbards and Grey to come back and take second watch.” Charles orders with a slight tilt towards shore. “Kinsey, my cabin.” 

“Captain.” Kinsey’s stomach sinks with both concern and disappointment.

“Now,” Charles says with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not asking again.” Maurice and Edd obediently stand and head over to the launches, while Kinsey abandons his mug of rum onto the chair Maurice was occupying before he follows behind Charle’s quick strides to the captain’s cabin.

Charles lets him into the captain’s cabin first before shutting the door with a firm click behind the both of them. The lock slides shut, and Charles barricades the door by leaning his back against it and raking his eyes down Kinsey’s frame.

“Captain I was just joking.” Kinsey starts. Charles raises a hand and stops him. Right Kinsey is fucked now—totally fucked, going to be murdered and thrown over the side of the  _ Ranger _ fucked—God help him. He snaps his mouth shut and Charles starts to speak.

“Joking or not.” Charles croons thoughtfully as he blows another wisp of smoke out in front of his face. You may have figured out a solution to my ultimatum. Pick one of the crew to do it.” 

“No. Fuck no.” Kinsey protests. None of the crew are his type, no offence to them but Kinsey would rather fuck off and scour the world for Billy Bones or Captain Flint rather than fuck his brothers in arms. 

“If you don’t pick anyone I’ll do it for you.” Charles grunts with a hint of finality.

Feeling his resolve slowly chip away—he doesn’t want to give up being a pirate, itch or no itch, neither does he want to give up the  _ Ranger _ —Kinsey sighs and slumps his shoulders forward while he nods.

“Alright, who do you pick.” 

Kinsey hesitates, running through the list of people on the crew. Temo comes to mind, the large Haitian man that Charles brought on board a few months ago. Edd, maybe, being one of the youngest and better looking candidates. Then there’s… really only one option left, the Captain himself.

Kinsey’s cheeks throb as he ponders it, heat and blood rushing to pinken his cheeks. Having Captain Charles Vane, ruthless and notorious pirate have his way with him sent a very obvious throb right to the base of his cock. Charles watches him as he ponders, and finally when Kinsey exhales and answers, Charles’ mouth parts with a small noise of shock.

“You, Captain.” Kinsey’s knees tremble slightly and he leans back against the sturdy wooden desk Charles has in the cabin.


	2. Chapter 2

Kinsey got bent over the table in the captain’s cabin faster than he could blink. Charles moved with purpose, Kinsey’s face is pressed painfully into the wood before he could protest. Charles wrenched his arm behind his back and wrapped it tightly with leather that could only be his belt.  Blunt nails dug into his wrist with an animalistic grip.

“Captain-”

“Shut up Kinsey.” Charles bluntly grunted while pressing along the length of his back. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Nails scratched down over his sides over the fabric his shirt. Charles adjusted his grip on his arms and it pulled on Kinsey’s shoulder. Charles ground the base of his palm against the back of his head, Kinsey could just picture the smirk on his face.

Kinsey has heard terrible fucking things from terrible men when he was younger. How his interests would get him killed. He’s heard terrible things from the man he had to call a father, he heard stories from other crew members about boys they knew. Charles knocked Kinsey’s nose forward against the table as he shifted behind him. Charles released the grip he had on Kinsey’s hands and leaned back, running his hands down to Kinsey's hips instead.

“How long have you been doing this?” Charles rumbled lowly. “Letting men abuse you like this?” Kinsey gasped, feeling Charles shove both hands down the sides of his trousers before they were tugged down his legs. Bared to the cool air in the captain’s cabin and Charles' gaze, Kinsey squirmed against the table, feeling his cock swell. He flushed down to the backs of his thighs and the tips of his ears, embarrassment heating his cheeks.

“Started young.” Kinsey answered breathily after a moment, his lips brushed against the table. “Needed a way for cash, at the warehouses, before the _Ranger_ came into port.” Charles grunted in answer and pressed his thumb against the cheek of Kinsey’s ass, spreading the cheeks slowly and leisurely.

“You’ve kept yourself.” Charles chuckled. The thick earring that pulled on Kinsey’s ear clacked loudly against the wood of the table as Charles pressed his hips flush to Kinsey’s ass. Charles was hard against him, surprisingly so, Kinsey hadn’t realized his captain had an interest.

A hand twisted into his hair and yanked hard enough to have tears prick his eyes. Kinsey gasped against the table, as Charles spat in the crease of his arse and pressed a thumb to the furled pucker of his hole.

“How do you want this then?” Charles muttered over his back. A hand slid down the length of Kinsey’s back, scraping blunt nails across Kinsey’s skin.

Kinsey hesitated, darting his eyes around the captain’s cabin before he turns his head to look over his shoulder, feeling his hair pull even more in Charles’ fist. “Don’t be nice. I can take it, just... do what you want with me.”

“What I want is it?” Charles crooned. When Kinsey met Charles’ eyes he shivered and knew that Charles felt it when his captain grinned.

Kinsey opened his mouth to say something. “Captain-” Fingers found themselves being pushed into Kinsey’s mouth.

“Quiet.” Charles ordered. Kinsey pressed the flat of his tongue to Charles’ fingers and laved over them. His eyes fluttered shut. Kinsey gasped around his captain’s fingers. Charles worked his thumb into Kinsey roughly, following a staggered and staccato rhythm that had Kinsey gasping breathily around Charles’ fingers. Charles’ thumb gets replaced by two fingers, Kinsey could feel the grin on Charles’ face as it stared into the back of his skull as he made breathy noises around Charles fingers.

“You saying I could do whatever I want to you.” Charles’ fingers were barely slicked as they spread and pushed from one set of knuckles to the next, crooking harder into him. “You saying I can have you like this, you’d be lucky enough to get slick when I fuck you is that it?” Charles shoved his fingers further into both Kinsey’s mouth and ass.

Kinsey gagged on Charles’ fingers brushing the back of his throat.

“Look at you, you’re fucking wanting it aren’t you.” Charles crooned. Charles yanked on Kinsey’s jaw and laughed when Kinsey shuddered, pushing back on Charles’ fingers. “Is this why no one bothers to say no to ye? Did they have you on your hands and knees, bent you over? Did they have you on your back? Did they look at you?”

Kinsey nodded despite Charles’ fingers in his mouth.

“If we didn’t pick you up you’d be workin’ as a whore wouldn’t you?” Charles rumbled. “Can you take me without slick, do you think?” Charles asked him. Charles slid his fingers out of Kinsey and pressed closer, taking himself in hand and rubbing the head of his cock over Kinsey’s hole.

Kinsey whimpered when Charles pushed the head of his cock into with a low groan. The pace started out slow, Charles working in with short, sharp jerks of his hips. Kinsey was shoved forward with his cock pushing against the flat edge of the table. It hurt and Kinsey loved it. Kinsey could feel the lines Charles scratched earlier down his back, he could feel the girth of Charles’ cock pushing into hm in short jerks. He could feel the throb of his own cock where it’s pressed on the wood.

Charles pulled his fingers from Kinsey’s mouth and instead wrapped them around his throat. It was reminiscent of the way Ned held onto his throat all those months ago, tucked away in the _Fancy_ ’s captain cabin. Charles pulled him back and forced him to arch his back, with an elbow pointed against Kinsey’s chest and a spit-slick thumb pressed right under the line of his jaw.

Kinsey’s spine creaked in protest, but he didn’t vocalize it as Charles began to fuck him. Teeth found the back of his neck and bit down, hard. Kinsey yelped, his neck tense under Charles’ teeth.

“You’re quiet.” Charles laughed against the nape of his neck once he let go of his teeth. “Didn’t think ye’d be like that.”

“Maybe you should fuck me better then.” Kinsey retorted half-choked. Truth be told Charles was going hard on him, fucking into him until he was shoving forward onto the desk so hard that his hips would probably be bruised by the next morning and his shoulders would be sore from the way they were tied back.

“Fuck you.” Charles growled at that, the hand around his throat left and instead an elbow was shoved into his spine, shoving him back down onto the table. One hand grabbed at his hip while Charles increased his pace. He was fucked now, Charles slammed into him, pressing Kinsey’s stomach so hard into the table that it ached to tense up.

“This what you fuckin’ wanted eh? Eh Kinsey, been whoring yourself out to captain’s and whores alike cause this is what you needed eh?” Charles twisted his hand into Kinsey’s hair and yanked on it as hard as he could. Overwhelmed by the pounding of Charles’ cock and the pain in his scalp had him wailing against the wood of the table.

“Fuck yes.” Charles grunted. Kinsey’s wail trailed off into a low keening whimper as he scrambled for purchase against the fabric of Charles’ shirt. It had Kinsey painfully aware of the fact that he was half naked and exposed to the room while Charles still had most of himself covered up except his cock which was currently impaling Kinsey’s arse.

Just when Kinsey thought Charles was relenting in his punishing pace, Charles reached over the length of Kinsey’s back for a candle on the table, pushing up the hem of Kinsey’s shirt to bare his back and spill a splatter of hot wax over the length of Kinsey’s spine.

Kinsey howled, arching his back and writhing on the table, flexing his arms against the leather belt wrapped around his wrists. Kinsey spilled his cum over the table, cock throbbing and jerking as his hips kept getting pushed against the table. Charles spilled the rest of the pooling wax across his shoulder blades and his arms. It burned deliciously, like a good stretch after a hard fuck. It felt even better with Charles’ cock still pounding into him, while his back and shoulders burned and Charles began peeling off some splashes of wax that dried with his fingers.

“Capt’n, fuck. I need it, need all of it.” Kinsey gasped, choking on his own breath and lust. His cock jerked valiantly in his own pool of cum on his table. .

“There we fuckin go.” Charles praised while peeling off more wax. It stung, so fucking good. Kinsey rambled a few choice curse words and clenched further around Charles’ cock. Kinsey’s captain grunted behind him, raking his nails down Kinsey’s back and laughed.

“You’re a good fuck Kinsey, a good fucking fuck.”  Charles rasped over him. Kinsey gave a breathless laugh and let his head thunk forward onto the table. Charles fucked him through his shudders and shakes, carding calloused fingers through Kinsey’s hair.

Kinsey mumbled a breathless response that he didn’t recognize, slumping his shoulders forawrd against the table as Charles stilled behind him with a low grunt. Kinsey felt the steady throb of Charles spilling his release into him. He ached when Charles pulled out of him. His knees shook as he crumpled against the table, a trail of cum leaking out of him.

His shoulders still ached from where they were bound, a soreness that had him relaxing as he shook from being fucked through his orgasm. The was a sound of a knife being pulled from its sheath before the belt was cut from Kinsey’s wrists and the wax was peeled off his body with a careful hand.

After several minutes of Charles cleaning him up with the knife, and then a damp washcloth that came from God knows where. Charles turned him over and massaged his shoulders, grinning down at him thoughtfully.

“If you ever need that again.” Charles started, eyes darting across Kinsey’s chest, the marks raking down his sides, the shapes of fingers around Kinsey’s throat. Charles remembered how angry he felt last year when he’d seen the exact same mark on Kinsey’s throat all because of a different man, a different captain. Kinsey rolled his head back against the table and smiled up at Charles, albeit with a clouded expression in his eyes.

“I know who to ask.” Kinsey answered softly, before he pulled himself up to sit onto the edge of the table. His shoulder ached beautifully as he rolled them. A soft moan left his mouth as he stretched his arms and his back, as his joints cracked, before Charles thumbed at his chin.

“I get it now.” Charles said after a moment of quiet. “I see why you let him.”

“Captain.” Kinsey began.

“No. I understand.” Charles ran his thumb up the line of Kinsey’s jaw. Kinsey leaned into it, pressing his cheek against Charles’ palm.

“I didn’t mean it as a slight against ye Capt’n.” Kinsey offered, looking up at the bright blue eyes that stared back at him. Charles softened in front of him and Kinsey felt privileged to see it.

“I understand it now.” Charles repeated. Kinsey nodded and dropped his gaze. “If you need it again, come find me.” Charles said with an undertone of an order to it.

Kinsey lifted his eyes to see Charles smiling at him.


End file.
